


The Dagger of Aqu'Abi

by nonbinarywithaknife (littleboxes)



Series: me sobbing about critical role [104]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series), Leverage
Genre: Accents, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe- Leverage Fusion, Bisexual Female Character, Comedy, Different perspectives, Episode: s03e11 The Rashomon Job, F/F, Flirting, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Mollymauk Tealeaf, Heist, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Minor Violence, Museums, Other, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-08-23 17:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20246458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleboxes/pseuds/nonbinarywithaknife
Summary: The story(s) of how the dagger of Aqu'Abi was stolen by (Mollymauk) (Beau) (Jester) (Nott)





	1. "Grifter"

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [the wildemount job](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18274403) by [Ffwydriad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ffwydriad/pseuds/Ffwydriad). 

> i've had the ideas for a leverage/cr fusion for a while but i wasn't inspired to actually buckle down and write until i caught up on Ffwydriad's fic "the wildemount job"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the story of how the dagger of aqu'abi was stolen (by mollymauk tealeaf)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> most of the dialogue is lifted right from the episode, but i've tried to change enough to make it different. most of this is already written! for once! and i have a different chapter for each thief's perspective.

“It was the perfect plan,” Molly says, leaning his elbows on the bar, tail swishing behind him, “I ran a long con for the entire _ four months _ of the exhibit-”

“I’m surprised your attention span lasted that long,” Beau interrupts, and Molly flicks a clawed finger at her. 

“Shut up _ Beauregard_, and let me regale you.”

Beau grimaces but shuts up, waving her hand for him to continue. 

“Two. Not one, but _ two _separate identities,” he says, holding up the aforementioned number of fingers and grinning proudly.

**_Rosohna, Marble Tomes Conservatory_ **

** _Five years ago_ **

“First, the Duchess of Kallista-Iados. As the Duchess, I donated art to the exhibit so my pieces would be mixed in with the dagger.”

“Where’d you get the art?” Fjord asks.

“Oh, bits and pieces from my collection,” Molly replies with a wink. Fjord’s not sure what he expected, and Molly continues the story.

“I made _ quite _the entrance, I have to say.”

_ Molly enters the Conservatory’s main display gallery with a flourish. He’s wearing a deep purple dress that compliments his lavender skin, and his horns shine. With his makeup done and hair curled, he is the center of the room. “You're here! She’s here! Ladies and gentlemen, the duchess Akta of Kallista-Iados.” _

_ The crowd ooos and claps, and Molly smiles. He walks with Mr Gladstone, a tall and paunchy drow in elegant robes, down the hallway leading to the dagger, careful not to lay it on too thick_. 

“Wait, who is this?”

Molly fills Fjord in without missing a beat. 

“Evard Gladstone. Financier. Filthy rich. Owns the dagger. Bit of a crush on me, of course.”

Fjord nods, and Molly continues. 

“Problem is, that’s when Waccoh decided to show up.”

“Waccoh?”

“Conservatory head of security. Rather wild, had to dodge her- you’ll see why in a bit. Now, if I may _ continue_…”

_ “Is there cause for alarm?” Molly-as-the-Duchess asks, looking at Gladstone over one sleeveless shoulder. _

_ “I’ve had three pieces of art stolen from me in the past year,” he confides, leaning forward. “It’s the last night of the exhibit, and I need to make sure they don’t cut any corners.” _

“Gladstone’s little chat with Waccoh gave me a chance to look for a certain someone.”

_ Molly-as-the-Duchess takes a small glass vial from the folds of his dress and empties it into the champagne flute in his hand. It’s done within seconds, and the party continues around him none the wiser. _

_ “Miss?” He calls to a passing member of the waitstaff, “Excuse me, please, could you send this over to Minister Bioko with my compliments?” _

“Tiana Bioko,” Molly breathes, eyes looking out at the memory.

“Nicodranian art minister. I’ve dealt with her before- quite nasty.”

“By reputation, a blood-diamond dealer, a Myriad boss, and more importantly, very allergic to shrimp.”

_ Molly-as-the-Duchess moves to walk towards the catering table, but doesn’t get a few feet before bumping into someone. Molly looks up through his curls and sees a human woman in a sharp black suit and glasses, with her short brown hair pulled up in a bun. A blatant academic if he’s ever seen one. _

_ “S’cuse me, ma’am,” she says, flicking her hand self consciously. “Ah sh-oot, did I get some on your dress?” _

_ “Not at all,” Molly replies, giving her a smile. _

_ “Dr Staci Abernathy,” she says, holding out a hand. _

_ “Doctor- what’s your PhD in?” _

_ “I’m a surgeon, actually,” she says, looking around at the paintings on the walls before turning back to Molly. _

_ “I fundraise for the museum. After a long day of saving lives I like to...” she looks him up and down, lingering just long enough on his dress to show it’s intentional, before continuing, “I like to appreciate beauty.” _

_ Molly turns his head away just a little bit- coy, but smiling. “You’re very forward, Dr Abernathy.” _

_ She chuckles just as the lights flicker. _

_ “What was that?” _

_ “Just a little power surge,” Molly says, leaning in closer. _

_ They’re interrupted by an alarmed yell.  
_

_ “Help! He’s choking! Somebody help! _

_ Molly paces over, his “oh dear!” blending in perfectly with the other worried murmurs. He picks up one of the small snacks from the table and sniffs it, before looking at the men on the floor. _

_ “There’s shrimp in this. Are you allergic to shrimp?” _

_ He lifts Gladstone’s card without issue, and begins his meander towards the exit, making alarmed exclamations all the way. _

_ He watches as Dr Abernathy runs to the choking tiefling woman on the floor, announces her credentials, acquires a knife, and makes quite the little declaration before (presumably) stabbing into her trachea. Molly doesn’t stay long enough to see. _

_ It’s no fuss at all to slip into the storage closet and change, once he makes sure he hasn’t been followed. _

“I needed Gladstone’s keycard to get access to the shipping and storage area. Gladstone had 24-hour access. My other identity? Did not.”

_ Molly steps out of the closet transformed. His purple hair is pulled up into a messy bun, with only a few strands hanging down messily into his face. He’s wearing a thick pair of glasses and his dress is covered by a white lab coat, upon which is clipped a white ID card that proclaims STAFF in large Common letters. _

_ Dr Kariin Ilva from the restoration department confirms her identity with a strained sounding Northern accent. _

_ She walks over to her work station while making small talk with the guard, quietly justifying her presence. Molly freezes for a second when he hears the voice of Tuss Waccoh, and stands when she walks toward his workstation. _

_ “You don’t work nights,” she says, an accusation in her voice, and Molly can’t help but notice her hair is looking even more frizzy than usual. Must be the stress, poor thing. _

_ Molly lowers his eyes, playing the part of social yet anxious museum worker. Damn it, she wasn’t supposed to be here yet- he just needs five minutes to switch the shipping address... _

_ “Hi Miss Waccoh. I didn’t expect you down here so early…?” _

_ “The gallery is closed because of a medical emergency. _ So_, we have to process the exhibits _ right now_,” she says, raising her voice at the end of her statement so the whole room can hear. _

_ “My men will scan the artifacts, tag them- green to be returned to their owners, red to stay in the vault until collected…” _

_ Waccoh continues explaining the protocol, before finishing. “No unauthorized personnel in...,” she turns to set her wide eyes on Molly, “...or out.” _

_ Molly looks at her innocently from under his glasses, before looking away. _

_ “I wanted to talk to you,” she says, “How long have you been working here?” _

_ “Four months.” _

_ “I saw my first Duchess upstairs. She… You look…- I’ll be _ right back_.” Waccoh stalks from the room, and Molly gets to work. _

_ Five minutes later, Dr Kariin Ilva from the restoration department strides from the room. Of course, a second later Molly finds himself around the corner from a stressed looking head of security with a _ gun _ . He listens to Waccoh’s exchange with another security guard before he’s free to sprint away. _

“Brilliant, isn’t it?” Molly says, holding out his arms. 

“Ehhh,” Jester says, and he pouts. 

“A betrayal, from my own fellow tiefling!”

“Well, you _ didn’t _ steal the dagger,” Fjord points out.

Molly looks at him with sparkling red eyes. “That’s the best part- the Conservatory stole the dagger _ for _ me.”

“You see, first, every item is catalogued. And Gladstone’s dagger is placed, into one of the crates containing my personal collection. Then, the crate is shipped directly to my storehouse in Uthodurn. All under armed guard provided _ by _the Conservatory.”

“It’s a good plan,” Fjord drawls. 

“_Yes_. It was the perfect plan. Except…”

_ Molly, in a room full of crates and boxes that all hold priceless works of art. He is rummaging through the crate in front of him with an increasingly frantic pace, throwing away fistfuls of bubble wrap and straw before yelling “No!” _

“The dagger wasn’t in the shipment.”

Beau feigns shock and Molly holds up a finger at her mockery. 

“I _ did _ steal the dagger-! I just, didn’t get to keep it.”

Beau smirks before downing the rest of her shot. 

“I think _ I _ can explain.”

She pulls a little of her hair out of its bun and into her face, and lifts the two empty shot glasses in front of her eyes. 

“S’cuse me ma’am. Did I get that on your dress?”

“No_. No! _ Ugh, that was _ you_? I can’t believe I _ flirted _ with _ you_, gross.”

Beau sticks her tongue out in retaliation, and begins to tell _ her _ story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the whole premise is from episode 3x11, the rashomon job


	2. "Hitter"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the story of how the dagger of aqu'abi was stolen (by beauregard lionett)

_ Beau steps just a little to the right and collides with the Duchess whatever of something-something. _

“_S’cuse me, ma’am,” she says, cringing a little at her voice. She hasn’t changed her accent, exactly, so much as slurred some of her vowels a little more than usual, like the way you have to do with Halfling. _

_ If she’s not careful she almost sounds drunk, and the fact that she hasn’t been able to test it as much as she’d like isn’t helping her stress levels. _ Fuck_, she wishes she didn’t have to do so much acting (even if it gives her a little bit of a rush, to be using the skills Dairon helped cultivate in her.) _

_ “Ah sh-oot, did I get some on your dress?” _

_ “Not at all,” the woman says, something like a purr in her voice. Beau smiles and holds out a hand. “I’m Dr Staci Abernathy, pleased to meet you.” _

“Now,” Beau says, taking an immense amount of joy at the shocked expression on Molly’s face. “I’m gonna tell you how _ I _ stole the Aqu’Abi dagger.”

“A dagger doesn’t really seem like your style, Beau- aren’t you normally all punches and kicks?” Fjord asks.

“It was actually more of a favor.”

_ Beau is wearing black tactical gear and in the midst of a fight in an industrial looking hallway. She answers the phone of the man she has pinned to the wall. _

_ “Lorenzo.” _

_ “Lionett.” _

_ “I figured you would be the one to pick up,” Lorenzo says. _

_ “Why are you sending second-rate thugs to try and kill me?” she asks, glaring at her captive when he wriggles in offense. She puts the phone against her chest, and affects the tone of her worst teachers at the ‘Soul. _

_ “If I’m not honest with you, you can’t improve.” _

_ The thug nods frantically. _

_ “You let me down,” Lorenzo says, “You didn’t deliver the sapphire monkey.” _

_ “You didn’t tell me it was in the _ Greying Wildlands_.” _

_ “Tell you what- I’ll make it up in trade. A client of mine, for whom I move rare merchandise, has asked me to arrange a retrieval. A dagger.” _

_ She frowns. “Where?” _

_ “It’s in Rosohna. Tonight. That’s why I’m asking. I’ll send you the details. Get me the dagger? We’re even. Say no? I’ll keep sending men until one gets lucky.” _

_ She flips the phone shut and looks at the man. “You know what I got to do?” _

_ He nods, fear in his eyes. She clocks him in the temple and he drops. _

**_Marble Tomes Conservatory_ **

** _Five years ago_ **

_ She hops into the backseat of the car. “Don’t talk. I know it’s your first instinct to talk, but don’t,” she growls to the shaking man in the driver’s seat. _

_ “Your best course of action is to nod.” _

_ “Wha-?” _

_ “_ ** _Nod._**_” _

_ He nods. _

_ “Good. I’m gonna need a few things from you. I need your clothes, and I need your invite to this party. This can go two ways: you can give them to me, and I can stuff you in the trunk of this car, which, by the way, looks pretty comfortable. Not a bad night. I’ve had worse. Or, you can not give them to me,” she pauses for dramatic effect, “And I can do exactly what you’d expect a crazy person in your backseat to do to you.” _

_ He hands her the keys. _

_ “Good choice… I’m gonna need your glasses.” _

“So what was your way in?” Fjord asks, eyebrow raised. 

“The exhibit’s closing, means all of it’s being shipped out. Weakest spot of any transport is when the object’s transferred to the vehicle. I needed to get downstairs.”

_ Beau grabs a drink from one of the waitstaff, a halfling or gnome by the height, partly wishing she could grab more than one. _

_ She looks up from her drink just in time to bump into some lady in a dress. _

_ “Sorry,” she grunts, trying not to prolong this interaction but not wanting to draw attention to herself. _

_ “”Allo, ‘allo, what’s all this, then?” _

_ “Dr Abernathy,” she says, holding out a hand. _

_ “Cor blimey,” the woman says, leaning further into Beau’s space, “You’re a bit of all right, ain’t ya?” _

_ Beau raises her eyebrows. That accent sure is… something. _

_ “Buy us a drink, will ya?” _

_ “Drinks are free,” she says, smiling awkwardly. _

“Wait, wait, what’s that voice? That’s horrible, what is that?” Molly asks, drink in hand. 

“It’s your accent,” Beau replies, deadpan. 

“That’s what I _ sound like to you? _” 

Jester and Nott chuckle and Beau doesn’t bother hiding her smirk. 

“Okay, fine, I want to go back and change my story,” Molly says, glaring at Beau. 

_ Molly tries to swerve out of the way of the muscled woman with a beer in her hand, but fails. Before he can get a word out, the woman is speaking. _

_ “Pardon me there, missy!” she says, voice thick. “Ain’t you as pretty as a little filly in the moonlight?” _

_ Molly wraps his arms around his chest and looks at her, and the woman barely stops for breath. _

_ “Doc Abernathy here,” she says, pulling a pipe from somewhere on her person and putting it in her mouth. _

"Wait, what, wait- what the fuck was that? That’s not even my accent, that’s _ Fjord’s _ accent, why am I suddenly the cowboy-,” she points a finger at Nott, who’s beginning to crack up, “Shut up, it’s ridiculous.”

“You _ told _your story already, Molly, it’s my turn now.”

_ “Drinks is free?” says the tiefling, “Bleedin’ hell, that makes me a cheap date, didn’t it?” _

_ Beau is saved from having to come up with a response when the lights flicker out. _

_ “What was that?” _

_ “You saw that too? That’s lucky, I thought I was passing out,” she pats Beau’s cheek as she turns away and Beau can’t help a bewildered stare in her direction as she leaves. _

_ Just seconds later, there’s a commotion by the snack table- there’s a blue tiefling choking on the floor and the irritating woman from a minute ago is yelling about “sea roaches” whatever the fuck _ those _ are. _

_ Beau intends to slip away except now the purple woman is pushing her forward- “She’s a doctor!” and now everyone is staring. _

_ “I’m not- uh, uh, okay, come here. Do you have a corkscrew? Yeah, pull the blade out,” She holds the blade next to the woman’s neck and tries desperately to remember how to do actual tracheotomies. _

_ “Ohhkay, I’m gonna need you to calm down ma’am, I’ve gotta do this real quick. Okay, lady-” Beau turns to look for the woman but she’s gone and all Beau’s got is a closing door. Okay. Okay, this is fine, just perform fucking _ emergency surgery _ on some rando with the whole room watching, this is just fucking _ great_. _

_ “Pills-” the choking woman gets out, and Beau notices a tin shaped bulge in her pocket. Oh thank the gods, she thinks, and pulls them out. _

_ “Yeah, that’s better buddy,” is what she says, before turning to Gladstone, who is hovering anxiously a foot away. _

_ “I need to get this woman to a comfortable place. Do you have an office I can use?” _

_ “We have a first aid station-?” _

_ “Perfect. Come with me ma’am, get up.” _

_ Beau “accidentally” drops the woman through the doorway but she’s probably fine, and thankfully Gladstone doesn’t follow them. They make it to the first aid station and she gets her “patient” settled on the chair. As she turns to leave, the woman grabs her arm. _

_ “Thank you. You are a _ lifesaver_,” she says, staring at Beau very intensely. _

_ “Uh, yeah man, no problem.” _

_ “I am in your debt!” she calls as Beau hustles out of the room. _

_ “Yep, uh, stay there!” _

_ She strolls down some stairs and pauses when she hears voices. Waccoh, the security chief, who by the sounds of it is interrogating some intern or something. _

_ She peeks out from behind the corner and sees another guard heading towards her position. She smiles, adrenaline kicking in, and leaps to tackle him. _

_ He gets in one punch before she has her arms wrapped around his neck and pulls him, kicking but not screaming, into a supply closet. _

_ She pulls her hair up into her “regulation bun” all clean and neat, and straightens the tie and badge. _

_ She steps out just in time to be stopped by Waccoh. _

_ “Have you seen Dr Ilva?” she asks intently. _

_ “Who?” _

_ “_**_Ilva! _ ** _ Weird eyes, funny hair, hmm?” _

_ Beau shrugs and looks confused, and definitely doesn't think 'sounds like someone right in front of me.' _

_ Waccoh sighs, irritated, before looking up at Beau again. “You sure you haven’t seen her? Go! Call me as _ soon _ as you find her.” _

_ Beau changes outfits for a third time after a quick sprint and a check to make sure she’s alone. Soon enough, she’s in the back of a truck with the box containing the dagger. _

“You stole it! You stole it from me!” Molly accuses, and Beau grins. 

“Yes, yes I did.”

“Technically~, Molly, you didn’t have it, soooooo,” Jester pipes in. 

Molly pouts. 

“It was en route. That’s like stealing my mail.”

“What, is stealing mail a crime?” Nott asks. The three of them stare at her, and she stares defiantly back. 

Molly glances at Beau and giggles, and she flips him off. 

“I don’t know Beau, _ is _ stealing mail a crime?”

“Fuck off.”

Molly picks up his drink. “Your little smash-and-grab ruined my perfect plan.”

“Well, whatever it takes to get the job done,” Beau sneers. 

“Weeeeeelllll~~~, you didn’t exactly get the job “done,” did you?” Jester says, looking at Beau. 

_ Beau opens the box, but instead of the dagger there’s- a mug. A fucking- novelty _ mug_. She takes approximately three “deep breaths” before punching a crate with a strangled yell. _

“So, you didn’t get it? What happened to the guys who you owed money to?” Nott asks. 

“Well, Lorenzo had a lot of enemies. They rolled him on some kinda charges, smuggling or something, a few weeks later and it took the heat off me.”

Molly splays his hands out on the table and leans forward. 

“So. I steal the dagger from the museum. You steal the dagger from my truck. Then who-?”

Molly is interrupted by the giggles coming from Jester. She continues giggling with increasing intensity as she gets up and walks toward the dart board. 

“Jester? Is there something you want to share with the group?” Fjord asks, pointedly taking a drink. 

She winks.


	3. "Hacker"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the story of how the dagger of aqu'abi was stolen (by jester lavorre)

Nott holds out the crumpled ball of paper. “Molly has it first,” she says, slipping the ball under a mug, “Then Beau has it, or does Beau have it?” she lifts the other cup and the table beneath is empty, “Molly never had it,” the first cup is also empty, “And then we have Jester,” whose cup is also empty. She looks up at Molly and Fjord with raised eyebrows. 

“I don’t buy it,” Fjord says from the table, looking away from Nott’s game. “It doesn’t seem like your kind of crime.”

“Welll~ not _ typically_, but the Conservatory had just installed a new Whitestone security system straight from Tal’Dorei.”

“Whitestone. Not bad. Tough system.”

“Yeah! It’s got a _ sick _ encryption system that protects both the database _ and _ the alarm! Five years ago, whoever cracked that first was going to be, like, a hacker _ legend_, Fjord! Granted, I am already a hacker legend, but it looked so _ fun_!”

Jester rubs her hands together. “But, to prove it was _ me_, I needed a trophy.”

**_Marble Tomes Conservatory_ **

** _Five years ago_ **

“Now! Back in the _ olden days_, like, _ nobody _ had Wi-Fi, so I had to get into the building _ myself_. I just hacked the Conservatory’s e-mail and grabbed the invite of the person with the coolest name.”

_ “Name, Ma’am?” asks the secretary. _

_ Jester smiles politely, drawing on the memories of her mother and her clients. _

_ “Yes, I am minister Tiana Bioko.” _

“Now what? What did you do?”

“Oh, that? I’m telling my computer I’m at my Mama’s hou- my house,”

“Your house?”

“Mm-_ hmm_,”

“...to execute a brute-force attack against the Whitestone’s firewall. That will, like, soften it up, you know, so when I get ~_ physical access~ _ it’ll be easy!”

_ Minister Tiana Bioko glides through the room, flirting with every man, woman, and person she meets eyes with. She’s charming and her laughter is infectious, and several hours in there’s a small crowd around her. Her sapphire suit compliments her blue skin and she pulls off the roses that have found their way into her hair magnificently. _

_ At one point, she sees a couple together on the dance floor, acting as if they’re the only ones in each other’s world, and she sighs a little, thinking of Oskar and Tusk Love. It can’t hurt to take just one little photo, can it? They won’t even know. _

_ Soon enough there’s a power surge, and she feels herself grin with delight. The Whitestone power system is resetting, and that means her backdoor is in place. _

“You still have to get access to the mainframe, though, right? You can’t do that from out here.”

_ Jester grins, before turning to the snack table. _

_ She begins to cough and wheeze, and pounds her chest. “I feel faint,” she gasps to Gladstone, as she sinks to the ground. _

_ “Do you have a, a- first aid room, or- cough- a back office?” she wheezes. _

_ “Yes, yes, through that door-,” Gladstone begins, but he’s cut off by a woman- the Duchess, if Jester remembers right. _

_ “You’re allergic to shrimp!” the Duchess says, and Jester can’t help a confused echo. _

_ “I got it, c’mere buddy,” says a woman in a black suit and suddenly there are arms around her neck. While usually Jester would be all for it the woman is calling for a knife- oh man that’s a _ very _ large knife-! _

_ She digs in her pocket for her mints, muttering “my pills!” until the woman that is still frightfully close to her neck lets up. _

_ “Let’s get you someplace quiet,” she says. _

“Wait a minute, those weren’t pills?”

“Of course not, they were breath mints! You know, just in case,” Jester winks. 

“Well, that explains it,” Beau says, only blushing a little bit. 

_ “You smell peppermint?” the woman in the suit asks, “I swear I smell peppermint…” _

_ “Are you sure?” _

_ “It’s a very distinctive smell,” the woman says, brandishing the knife. _

_ “I’m gonna go sharpen this knife, maybe walk around the halls in the dark… Don’t leave.” _

“Now, hold on, this isn’t a _ horror movie_, Jess.”

“Excuse me, Beau, it’s _ my _ turn to tell _ my _story, and you were very scary.”

_ Thankfully the terrifying woman with the knife leaves, and Jester hurries over to the computer. _

_ It doesn’t take long to punch a hole in the Conservatory database and then get into the shipping information- and there! The dagger of Aqu’Abi. _

“So you’re gonna change the shipping address, like Molly did?”

“No _ way_\- I’m going to make sure it never even leaves the Conservatory.”

_ Jester is bemoaning the speed, or rather, lack thereof her digital lockpick when Waccoh turns the corner. _

_ “What are you doing there?” _

_ “I’m patrolling, sir.” _

_ “You recognize her?” Waccoh asks, pulling out a file and showing Jester the picture of a purple tiefling. _

_ “Uh, no, sir, I do not.” _

_ “This was a screwup. This is why I am who I am. I _ live _ this job. It is the only thing I care about- we are gonna _ fix this_.” _

_ “Absotively, posilutely sir!” _

_ Just as Jester thinks she’s gotten out of this exchange, the vault door pops open. _

_ Waccoh steps forward, but then a man in his underwear stumbles out of the storage closet. _

_ “Call for backup!” Waccoh yells, and jogs over to the man. _

_ Jester is very grateful for her muscles as she shoves the two men back into the closet and locks it. _

_ She smirks and then saunters into the vault, opens up the door, and voilà- her trophy. _

“I don’t believe it.”

“I beat _ you _ and I beat _ you _ and _ nothing _ else matters!” Jester crows, pumping her fist. 

“Why does nothing else matter?” Fjord asks, staring, one eyebrow raised. 

“It doesn’t. It just doesn’t.” Jester can feel the eyes of Molly and Beau on her. 

“‘Nothing else matters’- what else doesn’t matter?”

“_Ugh, Fjord! _ You’re so _ lame_!”

_ Jester unlocks the door to the cubby that should hold the dagger, only to find nothing but air. Her mouth fall open and she looks personally offended by its absence. _

“Ha!”

“I knew it.”

“Hey! I still beat both of you, _ and _ am a hacker legend, so, like, what _ ever_!”

Jester smirks. “And you guys were totally all over each other.”

“What?!” “Ew, gross!”

After a slew of protestations and insults between Molly and Beau, Beau speaks. 

“Look, _ somebody _ took the dagger out of the museum that night.”

“Alright,” Fjord pulls the cups toward him. He holds up an empty cup, “Molly: didn’t have the dagger.”

The next one, also empty, “Beau: didn’t have the dagger.”

The last cup, still empty, “Jester: didn’t have the dagger.”

Fjord stares at Nott, who stares back with wide yellow eyes. She unfurls a clawed hand to reveal a crumpled ball of paper. She smirks, smile full of teeth.

“_Yeah._”


	4. "Thief"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the story of how the dagger of aqu'abi was stolen (by nott)

Fjord stares at Nott, who stares back with wide yellow eyes. She unfurls a clawed hand to reveal a crumpled ball of paper. She smirks, smile full of teeth.

“_Yeah._”

Molly curls an expectant lip at her and Nott growls in response. “What? I’m a thief!”

**_Marble Tomes Conservatory_ **

** _Five years ago_ **

“So what’s your way in?”

“My gear’s under the refreshments table next to the ventilation shaft. I wait until there’s a distraction, then I get downstairs. _ Then_, I wait for the dagger to be exposed and make my move.”

_ Nott adjusts the black tie around her neck, but it still feels like it’s choking her. Ugh. _

_ A lavender skinned tiefling woman stops her and asks? For, something? In a language that might be Elvish, except worse. _

“I hate you all,” Molly says, head in his hands. 

_ “Miss!” Waccoh calls, and Nott jumps when she realizes that she is the “Miss” in question. Fuck. She can’t talk to people. _

_ She walks over anyway, trying to smile politely and pretty sure it looks like a threat. _

_ “Aren’t you supposed to have drinks on a tray?” _

_ Nott raises her eyebrows and looks down at her empty platter. Surely it’s a good thing that she doesn’t have any drinks left? That she’s, y’know, serving? Ugh. _

_ “What if I wanted, say, a drink? This is a very important day.” Waccoh has only gotten more intense with every word and Nott tries to stutter out a response. Fuck, she can’t lie for shit! _

_ “I- uhm-,” Nott tries, and she’s not sure if she’s grateful or irritated when Waccoh interrupts her, seemingly unaware of or unwilling to acknowledge her stuttering. _

_ “You should probably go back and get some more refreshments, Miss…?” Waccoh stares at her shirt, where there should be a name tag, fuck, fuck, fuck, before staring back into Nott’s eyes. _

_ “Where is your name tag?” _

_ “On the refreshments table by the refreshments, where I’m going now,” Nott babbles, before speed walking away. _

_ She twirls her serving platter in her hand and wishes she had her crossbow with her instead. Always effective at ending unwanted conversations, crossbows. _

_ The lights dim briefly, before coming back. _

_ ‘Huh,’ Nott mumbles to herself. ‘Somebody just punched a hole in the security system.’ _

_ She wonders if it’s Caleb. She likes their little competition, or rivalry, or whatever they’ve got going on. She doubts it though. Caleb’s never really been interested in stealing from museums, he’s got a Thing about it, and she knows she mentioned her plans for tonight, if vaguely. He wouldn’t interfere with her mark. _

_ There’s a tiefling on the floor by the refreshments table and the lady in purple is yelling about something again. _

_ “I am… allergic to, to shrimp,” the woman on the floor wheezes, and Nott turns to the purple lady. _

_ “You said _ shrimp_? That didn’t sound like shrimp.” _

_ The purple tiefling walks away in a huff and the blue tiefling on the floor doesn’t look super great, and Nott definitely is not a doctor but she’s pretty sure she read something about airways needing to be opened when people have allergic reactions? _

_ “You have to open his airway!” She yells, and hands the human woman who apparently _ is _ a doctor a knife. _

_ While that happens, she crawls under the table and into the vents, a toothy smile on her face. _

_ Figures that something’s blocking the door out of the closet. She pulls the building schematics from her pocket and sighs. _

_ “Guess it’s plan B.” _

_ She’ll give this to the Conservatory- they’ve got clean vents. Nott doesn’t mind crawling through them, she finds the close corners comforting, most of the time, even. But buildings don’t generally spend a lot of time dusting their vents, and Nott’s goblin nose is _ sensitive_. _

_ She comes out of the vent under a table, and just in time to catch a mug from shattering on the floor. _

_ She peeks out over some crates and lifts open the box that should hold her prize- except it’s empty. Fuck. She puts the mug in, and hides again before the workers can see her. At least she can just wait until they’ve all left and break into the vault. _

_ She can’t help a few slashes at imaginary opponents once she’s got the dagger in her hand- daggers aren’t her preferred method of defense, but gods this one’s cool. _

_ She’s back in the vents and feeling pretty good about this job, overall, until she opens up her bag and sees a _ pink dress _ instead of her gear. _

_ “Well, fuck.” _

_ Doesn’t matter, she can climb it just fine, even if she grumbles a little along the way. Not loud enough to echo, of course, she’s a _ professional_. _

_ She does not expect to be face to face with another person, let alone the looming figure of Tuss Waccoh several seconds later. _

_ “Nice try,” she growls, looking almost manic. _

_ Nott punches her in the face and then gets pushed back down the ventilation shaft. She manages to grab onto a ridge, but jumps at the loud clatter of the dagger as it falls from her back pocket and down, down, down. She follows it’s journey until it gets swallowed by darkness. _

_ “Yikes.” _

“No,” Beau says, looking on in disbelief. 

“That’s what happened,” Nott replies. She’s honestly not that bothered. She’s stolen way more expensive things in these past five years. 

“I told you,” Molly says, “That Waccoh, she’s smart. Maybe even smarter than Fjord!”

“No, because, see, the dagger was still reported stolen- _ somebody _ got it!” Jester says, looking excited at the prospect of a mystery.

“That means that one of us is lying,” Molly replies. 

“So says the liar.” “Yeah, you.”

“Ex_cuse _ me?”

The three of them erupt into a squabble, but Nott stares at Fjord. He’s suspiciously quiet, and refusing to look her in the eye.

“Fjord?” she asks, a blatant accusation in her voice, and that catches the others’ attention. 

His lips pull into a smile, showing off his tusks. 

“I think you’re all forgetting to ask yourself the one central, crucial question,” he says, getting up. He saunters over to the bar and picks up a bottle, then leans against the wooden countertop. 

“The question is, who was the insurance company for the dagger of Aqu’Abi?” he says, pouring himself a glass. 

“_No._” “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” “_Seriously_?!”

“Why don’t you come over and let me tell you what really happened?” he says, spreading his arms smugly. 

<strike> Nott steals his drink later, in revenge for the dramatics. </strike>


End file.
